Strung along - The Dragon shifter's human mate

Blood-moon-tinged

Jordan

The blood moon tinges everything red when we finally get all our stuff piled back into the back of Xavier’s van. We’re exhausted and too energized all at the same time after hours in the stuffy club. It’s good to finally breathe fresh air again. It will help with the pounding headache my fires cause me. As will the waffles that are calling my name.

The itching that now spreads from my palms to the rest of my body diminishes this a little, not going to lie. Doesn’t help that the madame left early, and the only other person who could have given me ‘Red’s’ details was the bald bouncer with a crush on her. A very obvious one that makes me grit my teeth.

Yeah, no, he didn’t give me her info, shock, horror. He refused to tell me her name, and I couldn’t find her again after talking. I suppress the urge to kick the van's tire before getting in. So it seems like I will just have to wait until my uncle—

“C’mon Glitter-Fart, you owe me one more! One more 50-mile trip. C’mon!”

My head snaps up at the familiar voice, and I survey the parking lot. Telling Xavier and Hugo, I’ll take a piss, I move further to the other side of the lot. That’s when I see a lone car at the corner, parked in the shadows thrown by the club.

However, to call that a 'car' would be an insult to anything with four wheels. It’s a mix of bright pink and silver metal and is so old the rust has rust on it. Someone opened the hoot, and I see long legs in tight jeans stick out the driver's side door as they leaned in and are now trying to start the engine after whatever they tinkered with there.

“Sh*t.” The muttered curse reaches my ear clear as day, and they, obviously a woman, lean back out of the car. When I see her face, it clicks.

Mmmh. So the leggy redhead is actually a leggy blonde, and she——

The moment she looks up, and our eyes meet, my whole body catches on fire. I’m hot and cold all at once. The itching stops, my fires now sounding like they’re roaring in my ears.

Beautiful. She’s beautiful… and mine. MINE!

A small cloud passing in front of the moon dims the light shining on her face for a second, but the blueish-green color of her eyes makes them look like they’re glowing— her thick honey-blond hair, pulled in a tight braid shimmers almost golden for a second.

Then, the reddish moonlight is on her again. My throat is dry and burning all at the same time, and right now, I could swear I’m about to spit fire.

Or someone is trying to pour molten lava down my throat— one of the two.

I only register that I bridged the distance between us when she steps back, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively. But all I can do is stare at her. My brain has short-circuited, and speaking is not an option right now. Sorry.

“No idea if you have to warn people about this around here, but I have maze and a knife. So stop staring at me and move along.”, she hisses. Her sweet scent of magnolias and something I swear is old metal and wet wool almost suffocates me now that I’m that close, and I ask myself how I didn’t register this sweet scent earlier.

“You… look different.”

My mate snorts. “It’s called a disguise, Jordan. I like the anonymity." She shrugs.

"Not that there is anything to feel ashamed about, but I would like not to be reduced to how I make money when I enter a patient's room or talk to one of my professors. This minimizes the odds of that happening and—

“You’re breathtaking like this.”

Taken aback by my comment, my mate stares at me. Her brows now almost match her hair, and I know what was off about them earlier: they seemed too light compared to her wig. Now they fit. And are currently pulling down in a frown.

“I thought I made myself clear earlier: I’m not interested.” Shooing me off with her hands, she turns back to the open hoot and swiftly closes it. Then, her stern gaze is back on me, and I instinctively lean in a little.

“If you wait ten more minutes, the last two dancers will be finished. Shoot your shot with them.” When I don’t move, I see something pass in her eyes I can’t quite place, but it doesn’t seem to be a positive feeling because she takes another small step back and crosses her arms a little tighter. Her voice sounds almost warning when she speaks again. “I’m supposed to give one of my friends a ride.”

“That’s nice of you.”

‘Red’ swallows, looking at the van over my shoulder. “But she liked your bass player and— ” Her hand shoots out, twisting down the door handle. “Yep, looks like it’s a solo ride tonight.” With that, she slips in faster than I can react. And after the creaky car door closed with an unhealthy-sounding whine, she opens the window half an inch.

“No blow jobs.”

“You offering?” I lean against her car, my hands coming down on her hoot as if to stop her from driving off so I get the best view of her rolling her pretty blues at me.

“Not to you, no. Now get your hands off Glitter-Fart…. Please.”

“That’s a terrible name for a car.”

“Tell that to 16-year-old me, who bought it with her hard-earned money.”, she hisses. When I lift my hands off her hoot slowly, I see her eyes go to my forearms.

They widen for a moment, but then she shakes her head and shouts before rolling up the window. “Don’t follow me. I told you I don’t want to regret this.”

She races out of the parking lot at neck-breaking speed, and I swear I hear her gears grind from over here. I still can’t wipe the smile off my face as I jog back to the van.

Well, tough luck, sweet pea. No good deed goes unpunished. I won’t stay away for long.